Bloody Prayers
by ArmagonAuthor
Summary: Missing Scene to "Jump the Shark." Dean takes Sam to the hospital, and Sam starts to wonder why his brother keeps coming back for him every time.


In one slow and steady motion, Dean pushed Sam to a sitting position.  
" … Thank you…."Sam breathed heavily, wincing through the pain of the pressure of Dean's hands on his wrists.

"That's what family's for, right?" Dean gave him that ever-patented big brother smile of his, the one that was half chick-flick moment and half I'm-still-a-tough-guy smirk. Sam made an attempt to smile back, but it didn't come. "Put pressure on that," Dean's hands pulled away, and Sam winced again as his brother moved on to the other end of the room. And he was gone just like nothing ever happened. Typical. But it wasn't as if Sam should expect any different… In the past couple months Dean barely looked at or talked to Sam more than necessary, let alone make any physical contact. Why should bleeding to death many any difference?

_Put pressure…using what?_ Sam moved his eyes back down to his wrists, the pieces of cloth hanging limply across the backs. Trying to keep them from sliding off, he tried to maneuver his arms so that his right hand was putting pressure on the left wrist – which hurt like hell – and press the other wrist against his chest for lack of better ideas. Did Dean just assume that he had an extra pair of hands all of a sudden? How the hell was he supposed to do this? And speaking of Dean… where did he go?

Raising his head slowly, Sam's eyes took a while to adjust on his brother's form. Dean was leaning over something, making some kind of a movement… but Sam couldn't really tell what.

"Dean?" Sam's mouth moved, but his voice came out in a whisper. "… Dean?"

Dean's head moved to Sam, and he stood up. There was a knife or something in his hand… he was probably making sure that the ghouls were taken care of. "Just a second Sammy…"He moved over to the other one, turning his back on Sam. God, did he have to do this _now_?

"Dean…"Black spots moved briefly across Sam's vision, and he tried to blink them away. " I… I need…"

_I need a hospital…_ The black spots came again, and Sam resisted the urge to push the palms of his hands in his eyes to make it go away. Did Dean think that Sam was fine now that he was sitting up? Was this supposed to help?

Sam tried to pull his knees up on the table to press against his wrists that were up against his chest, but they wouldn't come. He looked down curiously, noticing that his legs were still tapped to the table. Oh that was just freaking _awesome_, now wasn't it?

Sam let his arms fall into his lap, starring at them curiously. Numbness had started to creep into his fingertips, slowly working his way up his arms. This really should have disturbed Sam, especially because it paired with the fact that his arms were becoming bloodier by the second, but he was only confused. Wasn't Dean supposed to come? He looked up to his brother, who was still in the corner of the room as if Sam wasn't there. Fine then, he would just wait in the car. He didn't need to be in Dean's way yet again. If he just got standing up…

Sam pulled at the duct tape on his jeans, feeling pain travel up his arm as his fingers wrapped around the surface. He ignored it for a second, sliding his legs out long enough to get free and set his feet down on the ground…

_Whap!_

Suddenly he was lying on his stomach, on the ground. It wasn't really clear how he _got_ there, just that he was a lot lower than he had been when he was sitting on the table, and that the wrists that had once been pressed to his chest for some form of support were now under him. "Uh…"Sam pulled his arms free, moaning as they pulled against the buttons of his shirt and his own weight in general. When he put one down to lift himself up, the pain shot up from his fingertips to his upper arm so fast it was like electrocution. "Oh God…"

"Sammy?" Suddenly Dean was there, trying to lift Sam up with out touching his arms. "Son of a…"He managed to do it after a few failed attempts, and eventually managed to get Sam on his shaky feet.

"Dean… "Sam's voice sounded to himself like it was slurred and far away, and he wondered what it sounded like to Dean. " Where'd you come from?"

"Sam, what are you doing?" Dean mumbled something else that was incomprehensible, and gently pushed one of Sam's wrists against his chest while wrapping a hand around the other. "Common Sam, you _need_ to keep pressure on these." Dean put another arm around Sam's shoulders, guiding him out of the room somewhere.

"Wh-Where were you?" Suddenly Sam felt like his feet were too heavy for his own body, and the pace Dean was walking became way too fast. But still Dean pressed on, as the black spots in front of Sam's eyes got worse.

"Sorry man, I was only gone for a second." Sam could hear the worry in Dean's voice, but he couldn't understand it. _No you weren't…_ It had been at least five minutes, Sam told himself. It couldn't have only been a few seconds, could it?

All of a sudden they were outside the building. Sam didn't remember walking through the doorway, but they were outside nevertheless. The impala soon came into view, and Sam leaned gratefully against the cold metal. He pressed his arms against his chest again, and Dean quickly unlocked the car and opened the door for Sam. He half sat, half fell into the seats and into a head-rush. His head fell against his chest without being asked. Why was every movement suddenly so hard?

"Easy does it Sammy…"Dean pulled at Sam's seat belt and pushed him back against the seat, making him moan softly under his breath. It wasn't supposed to be so cold, Sam noticed. His whole body was shaking, and Dean seemed to hesitate when he noticed this too. "Common man," Dean shook Sam a little bit, pushing Sam's limp arms back up against. "You need to do this for me, Sam. I'm gona get you out of here, okay?"

"…'Kay…"Sam pressed the insides of his wrists together, pinching them between his knees to try and stop the bleeding. The rush of pain moving up his arms made him hiss aloud, but he kept it up anyways. If Dean said to do this, it must mean that it would help… right? He shook his head to try and clear his thoughts, although that only made the dizziness worse. If only it would go away and he could actually think!

The car revved to life and Sam felt it speed away quickly underneath him, making him feel like the world was spinning even faster than it had been before. The urge to throw up came all of a sudden, and Sam bit his lip and fought the urge with all the strength that he had left. If he threw up in his car, Dean would kill him no matter what condition he was in. Eventually, he just curled up in a ball and laid his head against his knees. It didn't really help the sense of vertigo or the black spots, or the pain for that matter, but it was just easier. What he wouldn't give right now to just be able to sleep…

"Dean…"Sam groaned as the pain came again, worse this time. He never really thought that pain could make a person want to throw up, but apparently he was wrong. He had just started to notice the throbbing in his side too, from where the ghouls had been going poker-happy and stabbing his insides with their fingers. And now it was really starting to come back to haunt him.

"S'okay Sammy. I've got you…"There was a hand on the back of his neck, moving slow circles with a thumb. It was a comforting motion, the same thing that Dean used to do when Sam was little and would sit and cry over a scrapped knee or something of such nature. He had almost forgotten it at all, and had started to think that anything involving Dean comforting Sam had been left behind because Dean didn't really seem to care anymore. But there wasn't enough room in Sam's head to think about why Dean was doing it, just enough to try and take comfort in the warmth of the hand on the back of his neck, the rev of the familiar car under him.

"Dean…"There really wasn't much else to say. He would have preferred "God dammit Dean, I'm going to throw up all over this car if you don't get me to a freaking hospital in five seconds," but he wouldn't have managed saying it. His arms went limp again. He couldn't feel his fingers.

"_Sam_…"Dean's voice was worried beside him, but it sounded really far away. " What did I tell you… gotta hold… at hospital… ten minutes… common I… You need to… only way… stay awake."

Sam didn't understand most of that. Okay… he understood like thirty percent of _half _of that. But a couple words stuck in Sam's mind, making him clench his stomach in discomfort. Ten minutes?! Ten minutes!? It was hard enough to keep this up for five seconds at a time, let alone ten minutes. It was going to be hard enough not bleeding to death in the next ten minutes let alone staying awake.

"Hurts…"

"I know Sammy, I know…"Dean's hand was rubbing the back of his neck again, trying to keep Sam awake. His voice sounded almost… annoyed and disappointed. Annoyed that he always had to drive his screw-up little brother to the hospital, and that he always had to come to the rescue for the damsel in distress. Dean was disappointed in Sam. Dean was also disappointed that he had found Adam, a real brother who wasn't a freak, and had lost him. Adam had gone out like a hero, but it was Sam who got to be saved in time. And now it was Dean's job to take care of the little brother that he didn't want. Sam almost pitied him, and couldn't help wishing that Dean had had a brother like Adam instead of someone like him.

It was that part of Sam that couldn't help hating the fact that he was the baby that had destroyed a family. The son that couldn't keep up. The brother who wasn't good enough. It was that part of Sam that didn't see it as such a waste if he just let himself bleed out and relieve Dean of his idiot brother.

But it was that little part of Sam, that stubborn little kid inside, that wanted to stay alive. No matter how bad things got, how stupid he felt or how much of a waste of space he felt, there was still hope. Sam knew this. He knew that maybe, just maybe, his brother could one day forgive him for everything that Sam had done both on purpose and by accident. Maybe on day, after Sam had killed Lilith and had put his powers behind him for good, after they had stopped the apocalypse and the angels had left them alone, then just maybe Dean could be his big brother again. The strength of it being enough to keep him alive, he knew that this hope existed.

Because Dean had just called him Sammy.


End file.
